


Acting for Dummies 101

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Acting, F/F, Lies, Post-Episode: s14e14 Ouroboros, Rowena Is A Drama Queen, Therapy, Undercover as a Couple, Well They Already Are A Couple But They're Going Undercover As A Troubled Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 12:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: In order to help Sam and Dean with a case, you and Rowena go undercover as a troubled couple.





	Acting for Dummies 101

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the bickering scene in 14x14.

It had been Jack's idea.

Something was killing couples. There had been three incidents so far, all bodies found with their heart neatly carved out and sigils etched into their foreheads and wrists. All signs pointed to a witch, but the suspect pool was long; this small town had a surprising number of suspicious people hanging around, and it was difficult to pinpoint either of them as the offender.

Thankfully, Sam had managed to find a link between the victims. As it turned out, all the couples had had issues, and all had visited the same therapist. Dr. Miranda Jackson had a clean record, not even a parking ticket; out of all people on the suspect list, she seemed least likely to be the culprit. Even still, the coincidence was too glaring to ignore. She was more than worth looking into.

Dean suggested going undercover and Jack had helpfully volunteered you and Rowena. He was so enamored by her performance last time, when she and Sam had portrayed a bickering couple worried about their puppy, that he wanted to see it again. And besides, the two of you were already a couple. You were basically perfect for the role.

So here you were, slumped in a chair you wished was more comfortable, with Rowena right next to you, preparing your imaginary lines. You barely resisted the urge to bite your nails; you dug them into your jean-clad thighs, raked them over the soft denim, curled your fingers in tune with your throbbing nerves. You could do this, you told yourself. It was just a little bit of lying. Nothing you hadn't done before.

All you had to do was fake being in a troubled relationship, look out for any traces of magic lingering in the air, be prepared to fight if the good doctor did turn out to be the murderer, and not get caught.

No pressure at all!

Doctor Jackson observed you, gifted you with a smile, friendly, non-threatening, when your nervous eyes locked with hers for a brief moment. You lowered your gaze right away, suddenly finding the floor — strangely clean and shiny for one in a therapist's office — very interesting. She shifted her eyes to Rowena, earning a smile that was so sugary sweet it induced diabetes.

"So," Dr. Jackson said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the small room, "Why don't you tell me a bit about your troubles? I assume there's a reason you made an urgent appointment."

Her voice was soft and sweet, tone professional yet kind. The kind that made you want to tell her your deepest, darkest secrets, that made you trust her within the first five minutes of knowing her.

"Och, there is!" Rowena said dramatically.

She was a horrible liar, and an even worse actress. You didn't know what it was Jack saw that made him think her performance was, in any way, shape, or form, good. She was an extremely gifted and powerful witch. However, lying, and all related activities, was one of her weakest points.

You loved the woman to death, but not even love was  _ that _ blind.

"We're having  _ so _ many problems!"

_ We'll  _ have _ problems if your shitty acting gets us caught, _ you thought.

"Could you elaborate?" Dr. Jackson asked.

"She spends an awful lot," Rowena said. "I work so hard for us, and she throws it all away on nonsense!"

"You're so full of shit!" you said.

On your way to Dr. Jackson's office she, when you asked her what to do, told you to let it come naturally, to just relax and go with the flow. You might as well give it a try.

Pointing a finger at Rowena, you turned to the doctor. "She  _ gambles! _ That's where her" — you formed quotes with your fingers — "'hard-earned money' comes from! And she's not even good at gambling! She cheats all the time!"

Rowena gasped. "I never!"

"You admitted it to me two months ago!" you argued.

Her eyes widened with feigned shock. She took a deep breath and turned to Dr. Jackson. "I may have cheated once or twice" — you scoffed at that, earning you a glare — "but it's only because she spends so much! I did it for us!"

You snorted, and she shot you another glare.

Dr. Jackson adjusted her glasses, taking the madness in. She seemed to be buying it. "So you're in financial trouble?"

"Yes," Rowena said.

"And you're frustrated because Y/N keeps spending the little money you have?"

"Yes."

"I can see how that would put a strain on a relationship. Finances are a common problem amongst couples — especially married ones. You two  _ are _ married, correct?"

"As of two years ago," Rowena said happily, flashing a ruby ring she'd bought with your fake credit card a week ago. Dr. Jackson smiled at the gesture.

"She made me take her last name," you mumbled.

"I didn't make you," Rowena defended. "I simply suggested you take mine because it suited you so well."

"You said mine was ugly and that you wouldn't be caught dead having it as your last name!" you snapped.

"Well, it was!" she exclaimed. "MacLeod certainly has a finer ring to it than—"

"Okay," Dr. Jackson interrupted, hands up in a placating manner. "Clearly finances aren't the only issue here. Why don't—"

You cut in. "She spends more than me! Okay, I go on a binge from time to time, but she does it constantly. She can't leave the house without going to one of her ridiculously expensive boutiques. A year ago we had to buy a closet — a  _ closet! — _ just for her shoes. And it's already full!"

"I will not apologize for wanting to look nice for you!" Rowena said indignantly.

In reality, you loved her shopping habits. She may have spent a lot and bought clothes she would only wear once or twice, but it was something she loved, something she truly enjoyed. As much as you preferred to sit at home to roaming the mall, you happily accompanied her. Her face always lit up with joy as she observed the dresses and blouses, as she looked them over, felt the fine fabrics underneath her fingertips. Every item she tried on she made a point to pose in for you. Part of it was her ego; the woman drank compliments like water, needed them to live, thrived on them. But she also did it for you. She wanted you to see how each item fitted her, how the fabrics hugged her body. Wanted you to want to take it off of her.

Rowena MacLeod was nothing if not a tease.

"Are you sure it's for me?" you said.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well!" you snapped. "She cheated on me!"

Rowena exhaled loudly. "It was  _ one _ time!" she admitted, raising a forefinger in emphasis. The corners of her lips turned downwards in exaggerated sadness. "She said she's forgiven me, but every time we argue she brings it up."

You ignored her. "She brought him to our house, to our  _ bed!" _

She shot you a glare that must have killed before. "Maybe if you did more than just lie there like a heavily sedated walrus while I did all the work I wouldn't have felt the need to seek someone else's company!"

Stifling an incoming surge of laughter, you clasped a hand over your heart dramatically. Her theatrics were rubbing off on you. "Sure, it's my fault. Everything's always my fault. Queen Rowena is always right."

"Well, I am," she said matter-of-factly.

You sighed, rubbing your temples frustratedly. "See what I have to deal with every day?" Before Dr. Jackson could respond, you said, "And it's not just that she's stubborn. She's  _ difficult _ to live with. She complains about everything.  _ Everything! _ Nothing's ever good enough for Miss perfect!"

"Forgive me for having standards!" Rowena said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's called being a snob!" you retorted. Your eyes shifted to the doctor. "One time at a restaurant she complained to the waiter about rain hitting the roof."

"It was annoyingly loud and I have sensitive ears!"

"It was  _ weather! _ What the hell was he supposed to do, will it to stop? Do a rain banishing dance?"

Her response was a heavy roll of eyes, her trademark.

"She makes these ridiculous complaints at home, too!" you continued. Mimicking her accent, you said,  _ "'My soup is too hot, my tea is cold, you left a speck of dust in the corner, there's creases on my blouse, iron it again…' _ Can't satisfy her!"

"If you did your job right, I wouldn't complain."

You were outraged. "My  _ job? _ Honey, if you wanted a housewife, you married the wrong woman!"

Rowena turned to the doctor, eyes pleading, begging for her to side with her. "All I ask is appreciation for my hard work."

"You're a  _ gambler!" _ you pointed out.

She grit her teeth. "At least I  _ have _ a job!"

"I had a job, too," you said. The lies fell easily from your lips. Rowena was right; it came naturally. All you had to do was give in to it. "You made me quit, remember?" You locked eyes with Dr. Jackson. "She was jealous of my boss."

"The man was staring at your arse all the bloody time. Who knows what he would've done?"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I try to look out for her and this is how she repays me," Rowena told the doctor.

"Poor Rowena, always the victim."

She ignored the remark. "She's the jealous one in our relationship."

"Am not," you said childishly.

"Are, too," Rowena retorted. "She scowls at every man who talks to me. One time she even  _ growled. _ Like a rabid dog." She made a disgusted, outraged face. "Whenever I leave the house, she insists of accompanying me."

"That may have to do with your cheating," you pointed out.

She spread her arms wide, sighed heavily. "There she goes again! She will never let me live it down."

"Would you let me live down cheating on you?"

"I would if you were genuinely repentant. Like me."

You swallowed back a rush of laughter threatening to tear free. Rowena had held grudges for centuries. There were still a few she'd held over a minor disagreement with a small coven of witches a hundred years ago. If any cheating was to happen from your side, she would make note of it, sear it into her brain, and let anger consume her whole one day at a time. If hurt didn't get to her first.

Not that you would be any different. You could forgive a lot of things, but cheating wasn't one of them. Thankfully, Rowena was as faithful as she was a wonderful, attentive lover. She was known to tease and flirt, but she would never cross the line. She loved you, respected you, cherished you too much for that.

"Repentant?" You snorted. "You never even said sorry. In fact, I've never heard you say sorry in my life."

It was a thing of the past — she'd gradually learned to own up to her mistakes and express regret in words as well as actions — but it made for a great addition to your little play.

Rowena, ever the theater actress, agreed. "I said I regretted it."

"You didn't say sorry," you pointed out.

"It's the same thing."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." She pouted, and it took all your self-control to refrain from melting at the sheer cuteness of it. "You just want to humiliate me."

Instead, you let out another snort. "Basic human decency is not humiliation, but sure. Whatever you say."

"Now you're just being condescending!" she accused.

"I wouldn't have to be if you apologized like a normal person!" you shot back.

"Okay!" Dr. Jackson exclaimed, cutting you both off. She took a deep breath. Exhaled. Inhaled again. Rinse and repeat. Her face was the picture of tiredness, thick, dark circles framing her eyes, skin pale and washed out. It was as if the last forty minutes had added ten years to her age.

If you had to listen to two women bickering like children for a living, you would have aged prematurely, too.

"There's obviously a lot going on here," the doctor said. An understatement.

"A lot," Rowena agreed.

"Yup," you said with a nod.

"You two want to work it out, right? That's why you're here?"

"Aye," Rowena said. She reached for your hand and squeezed it. "Despite everything, I love my wee lamb very much."

You blushed at the nickname. Usually, it was you who called her ridiculous names. Payback. "She really does," you said, the first truth you'd spoken here. "I love her, too. She's my baby girl."

You brought your linked hands to your mouth and kissed her knuckles.

Dr. Jackson flashed you a bright smile. "That's excellent to hear!" she said, and she meant it. She genuinely wished you best. "Time's run out for today. How about we set an appointment for…" She checked her schedule book. "Friday, two o'clock?"

"Sounds marvelous!" Rowena beamed.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"It's a deal, then," the doctor said happily. She stood up. You and Rowena followed suit.

"Thank you so much, Doctor," Rowena said exaggeratedly, shaking the woman's hand with both of hers. "You are going to save our marriage!"

"It's what I do," Dr. Jackson said, giving a humble nod. "I have a good feeling about you two."

She had no idea. Your relationship was far from the fiction you'd sold her. Happy. Wholesome. Healthy. Perhaps a tad codependent, but no relationship was perfect. Arguments were rare, but when they happened, they lasted a few hours tops, and were always resolved with a good makeout session or a tumble between the sheets.

You had your annoyingly overprotective moments, just as Rowena had her difficult, drama-queen ones, but they were nothing the two of you couldn't deal with.

"Thank you," you said.

You and the doctor shook hands and, with a quick exchange of goodbye pleasantries, you were out on the streets. You took in a deep breath of fresh air, tense muscles relaxing, pressure subsiding. A tinge of pride bloomed up in your chest.

"We did it!" you said, smiling from ear to ear.

Rowena flashed a smile of her own. "We did! You were marvelous, dear!" She tilted her chin up, proud, smug. "Not as marvelous as me, of course, but close enough."

You slapped her arm playfully. Your little egoist.

She yelped dramatically, lower lip popping out in a pout. You pressed a swift kiss to it, unable to resist the adorableness. Rowena grinned.

"I didn't sense anything from her," you said.

"Me, neither," she said. "She's not our villain."

You sighed. "This was a waste of time."

"Don't be like that!" Rowena chastised. "It was fun."

"If you say so." A playful smile curled at the corners of your mouth. You hated to admit it, but she was right. It  _ was _ fun. Pointless, but still entertaining. "We should call the others, let them know about the doctor."

She nodded. "Fancy a lunch? I saw a cosy wee restaurant down the street."

"Sure." Your stomach grumbled in agreement. You rubbed it, cheeks burning hot, embarrassed.

Rowena chuckled. "I suppose we'd better hurry! Come, dear. Let's get that belly full!"

She reclaimed her hold on your hand and lead the way. You followed after her like a faithful puppy, mouth watering at thoughts of warm meals and sweet, delicious desserts. You'd worked hard earlier; you'd earned a treat, or several.

The case could wait half an hour.

Your belly could not.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by OswinTheStrange.


End file.
